It Was Only The Beginning
by Iknowitsbadkid
Summary: Hermione didn't know whether she wanted to burst into floods of uncontrollable tears, a stomach wrenching fit of laughter or scream as loud and for as long as she possibly could. Out of all the books she'd read not one thing prepared her for this moment.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine, not-not mine.**

Hermione didn't know whether she wanted to burst into floods of uncontrollable tears, a stomach wrenching fit of laughter or scream as loud and for as long as she possibly could. Out of all the books she'd read, and all the knowledge that she'd immersed herself in, not one thing prepared her for this moment. The moment where she realised that she was truly alone.

"Alone". She muttered the word horribly to herself. It hurt her to think it but hurt her even more to say it out loud, to cement the thought into the air, to make it a true and certain fact, to leave it there for someone one to see and realise what she was going through. She felt ashamed for admitting it out loud, ashamed at admitting defeat, but it was as if the word had been trapped for so long inside her, and had spent the long weeks and agonizing months building up and preparing for it's escape that it couldn't be prevented, the thought was stronger than she was. It was this moment where she had realised her one flaw and vulnerability. Hermione Granger hated being alone.

The thought that her life in sixty years time would potentially consist of her sitting in a crumbling old house, with weak and fragile floorboards weighed down with books, alone, except for a bi-polar Cookshranks filled sixteen year old Hermione with a feeling of pure panic and dread. The very idea consumed her thoughts so often that she felt she was suffocating. She let out and shaky sigh and shifted her body on the common rooms plush red sofa, adjusting herself so that her head lay comfortably on the armrest and her long legs stretched out in front of her. She closed her eyes and felt the soft flames of the dying fire reach out and warm her face. Once lying down she found it easier to arrange her complex thoughts. When faced with a problem like this, she found it easier to imagine her thoughts and feelings as a long piece of knotted thick shipman's rope, that with careful precision and consideration could be untied, resulting in a clear and simple conclusion to the matter in hand, but as it so happened Hermione's thoughts seemed to be intertwined like a Gordian knot. If only she could react to a situation or problem as easily as he could, he treated his problems like fresh, powdery snow; throw it up glittering in the air and watch it fall into place; wherever it landed suggested what was meant to be. Hermione sighed inwardly, annoyed at herself for pointing out another huge contrast between the two of them. What was she meant to do with all of these feelings anyway? She knew from past experience that letting your emotions brew up inside you resulted in a nasty potion, committing things to paper or diary couldn't be trusted and relating her thoughts to a confident never ended well. In the past when she had been faced with a problem, the solution was easy. Talk to him. He was lucky enough to be blessed with a thought process that although at first may seem slower in comparison to hers, managed to asses a situation with clear clarity. But what was she to do when in fact the problem was him?

"You coming down for Dinner?" Hermione's head jerked quickly. It was a voice that she was so familiar with, a voice that she would be able to pick out in a crowd. She knew every rise and fall of his deep voice and the way his tongue manipulated his words. She sighed, brushed off the panicked wave of nausea and rose to her feet.

"I'll be there is a minute"

"Brilliant" a grin as wide as the sunrise flashed across his perfectly constructed face.

Despite the battle of emotions raging and thrashing around inside her Hermione followed him out of the portrait hole and down the long and winding stairs.

It was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Still not mine **

The snowflakes fell like soft kisses onto her cold face. With each loving touch of snow on skin a sense of flickering hope was bought into Hermione Granger's life. Things were changing and this was the beginning of her new start. She slowly let out a long, deep sigh and watched her breath dance away from her in waves. The waves of her breath contained all the unwanted thoughts and feelings Hermione possessed; with each exhaling lungful of air she felt her head clear, as if someone was wiping away the thick dust on an old and forgotten dresser, in swift and decisive movements things got clearer. No more tantalizing and tempting thoughts of him, no more painful thoughts of what they would never have, no more thinking of his rich red hair or his wide smile that filled her with such an intense feeling of pleasure. No more.

"No more" she whispered quietly into the unwelcoming air. The thought had flown out of her mouth and disappeared into the overcast atmosphere and gone forever.

Hermione immersed herself in her surroundings, consuming her thoughts with anything but him. The soft white flakes fluttered down from the sky above in such a synchronised and rehearsed manner, each falling with an innocent and tender grace, swirling and curling all around her; their enchanting elegance filled Hermione with such joy; each individual snowflake completing its set journey in life, each one finding what it was looking for. The supple dance of a newborn snowflake contained all the desire and yearning a trained professional could only dream of possessing. Hermione, whose head was tilted back, stared at the accumulating flakes in the thick grey sky. This was the third snowfall of November and she had once again found herself alone in the isolated castle grounds, surrounded only by the gentle fall of snow. The precious snowflakes erased the footprints of those who had been before and in their place left an untouched white blanket of snow, ready to be explored and imprinted with new wishes.

The calm and quiet serenity of the secluded grounds quickly vanished and Hermione heard them before she saw them. His deep laugh resonated through her body as if it were calling out to her, embracing her, needing her. But he laughed not for her but for Lavender. The two of them who were so constantly intertwined, like the thorns of a blooming rose bush, made their way across the grounds, oblivious of Hermione, eyes locked only on each other. Seeing the two of them together Hermione felt as if she had looked into the furious and revengeful eyes of Medusa. The air seemed to lock around her body, each limb freezing in turn. She couldn't turn her stare away from the couple as she so wished, but instead was punished by the vicious Medusa to gaze at him with her.

She watched Lavender rest her head on his broad shoulder and throw her head back, making a sickly sounding laugh. Such a movement made Lavenders dull purple hat fall off her perfectly curled head of hair. The couple walked on. Walked past. Walked away. Leaving only their entangled footprints in the fresh snow.

Hermione sighed once more; feeling each limb in turn be released from the deadlock the couple had had over her body. She felt numb, and it had nothing to do with the cold. She gulped down a lungful of air and bit her red, chapped bottom lip to stop it from quivering. A shriek was heard and a low groan followed and he appeared once more, searching the trodden ground. She watched him bend down and pick up the damp hat with exposed hands. He laughed inwardly to himself and put it in his deep jacket pocket. He stood up and turned round as if instinctively and looked directly at Hermione. A look of sadness crossed his face and filled his dazzling blue eyes with a heartrending look. An embarrassed smile crawled slowly across his lips and she heard him whisper "hi". He nodded in her direction and was gone.

Hermione shakily moved her feet in the opposite direction. Determined not to see the couple reunited.

The snow continued to fall.

**Next time we're switching POV's. It's time to hear from Ronnie-kins 3**


End file.
